


'Millions rejoice at this shocking turn of events...'

by Eligh



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Comics/Movie Crossover, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2013-08-16
Packaged: 2017-12-23 17:24:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/929145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eligh/pseuds/Eligh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Immediately after Kate and Lucky leave, Tony stops by Clint's apartment with some interesting news.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Millions rejoice at this shocking turn of events...'

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline-wise, just assume that there was the whole battle with Loki and whatnot that happened in the movies, then say Fraction's comics picked up a few months after that. There is also some of my own head-canon because... I do what I want. 
> 
> You'll want to be up to date on the comic to understand what Clint's angsting about.

Okay, this looks bad.

But do you blame me? After all that— _everything_ —that’s gone down, do you _really_ blame me for getting pass-out drunk on my living room floor? _I_ wouldn’t blame me, that’s for damn sure. If I was in your shoes, that is.

Cause I mean, if I were an impartial observer, some omniscient being watching in on my life, I’d probably cringe and buy me a drink. Two drinks. Oh hey, vodka, would you look at that. ‘Hey, Clint Barton,’ I’d say. ‘Hey, Hawkeye. Have a drink on the universe.’

Don’t mind if I do.

~

It probably took Clint over five minutes to realize that the pounding wasn’t just in his head.

To be entirely fair, he’d perhaps overdone it a little the night before, but Kate, the _ingrate_ , had taken his _dog_ , and then there was this whole cluster of all fucks with the bro-squad and Cherry and Jess and then Grills—man, _Grills_. Gil. Jesus.

“What,” he snapped, opening the door to reveal a distinctly unimpressed Tony Stark. Clint masterfully hid a wince at the light from the hallway and scrubbed a hand through his hair. Tony favored him with a long look, then brushed past and into Clint’s apartment, drawing breath for what was undoubtedly going to be something long-winded and not even remotely interesting.

“So I know that you’re busy doing your seriously-what-the-hell slumlord thing here or whatever but I’ve found something I think you’ll be interested in, though I’d like to remind you that if you just _moved into the tower_ I wouldn’t have to make these trips down into the ass-end of not even my _area_ , Clint.” Clint rolled his eyes, half listening as Tony rattled on, something about S.H.I.E.L.D. and how Fury was a liar. Whatever, old news. Good thing Clint didn’t work for S.H.I.E.L.D. anymore. The wonders of disposable income, amirite?

Clint sniffed in what he hoped was a disdainful manner and then rubbed at his face, grimacing when he realized he had drool dried to his cheek. Tony was still talking, something about medical and hidden bases and needing someone to infiltrate. Clint just sighed and poked at his coffeemaker until it started to gurgle.

“Well?”

“Well, what?” Clint yawned and glared at the coffeepot. Go faster, dammit.

“You weren’t even listening,” Tony groused, and Clint shrugged, unconcerned. He very rarely listened when Tony went on a rant.

“I’ve sorta got a lot on my plate right now,” he murmured, and it was Tony’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Yea, so I heard. From all _three_ of your lady-friends. _And_ jailbait-Hawkeye whom I suppose I could also include under the ‘lady-friend’ category but I just can’t seem to make that connection because she is a _child_ , Clint. You’re not sleeping with her, too, are you? Because if you are, then my friend, you have a serious problem and trust me, I know serious problems when it comes to women.” Tony shook his head. “But you got me off track. Sorry about Jess, by the way, and oh, Bobbi, too, but at least you knew that one was coming and I sort of think—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Clint cut him off, sliding the coffeepot from under the stream of sweet ambrosia long enough to fill a cup. Coffee made everything brighter, really. Tony narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms.

“Since you clearly weren’t listening earlier, I guess I need to put this as simply as possible.”

Clint refrained from rolling his eyes again only through massive Herculean effort. “Please do, Tony. We’re not all arrogant genius fucksticks.”

Tony’s mouth tightened but he looked amused for a moment before sliding back into serious. “Phil Coulson’s alive.”

Oh.

Clint’s world shifted, the apartment sliding sideways and turning on end, because such monumental news shouldn’t come from the mouth of Tony Stark. News like that should be announced on the 24-hour circlejerk channels, primped-up walking boob-jobs looking suitably impressed and serious, lipsticked mouths earnest, saying things like

‘in a shocking turn of events,’

and

‘multitudes rejoice as news is released,’

and

‘Agent Philip Coulson of S.H.I.E.L.D., who had gone up alone like an idiot against the raging psychopath, the Asgardian known as Loki,’

and

‘months after the fact, Coulson’s best friend and Avenger Clint Barton heard the news from multi-billionaire narcissist Tony Stark. Here to speculate on how this made Mr. Barton’s life one gigantic lie, we have superhero specialist…”

There was a crash of ceramic on linoleum and ah, well, Clint guessed he only needed one mug, all things considered. He usually drank straight from the pot anyway. Surprisingly numb, he stared at the shattered mug and spreading pool of coffee, his fuzzy brain wondering just when was the last time he’d actually _dropped_ something like that, in shock.

Tony wouldn’t just come out and say that shit, make _that_ sort of claim, not if he didn’t have proof, would he?

Clint cleared his throat and dragged his eyes up. Tony looked vaguely worried in that arrogant asshole way that only Tony could. Clint tried to say something, realized he couldn’t, then cleared his throat and asked, “Phil?”

“Is alive,” Tony repeated, and Clint blinked.

“How?”

Tony shook his head. “No idea. But I’ve got footage. I mean, the stuff I looked at was from earlier, like, yesterday sometime. But I’m sure there’s more recent stuff back at the Tower if you want to check it out.” He paused, thinking, then said delicately. “He looked… looks. Not great. Kinda sick, but try getting a spear through your chest and see how you feel a couple months down the line.”

Hey, chairs. Clint sank into one when he knees abruptly felt a little weaker than usual. “But it was Phil. Not a Life Model whatever or—”

“I ran a biometric scan,” Tony told him. “So it’s either him or some sort of government fuckery that we haven’t seen before, but I’m betting it was him based on how pissed off he looked.” Clint looked up, confused, and Tony licked his lips. “He looked to be a little bit not exactly free to go on his own will. I’m assuming that getting him out might take a little doing.”

Everything sharpened then, because of course Phil was being held against his will. He wouldn’t have disappeared, he _wouldn’t_ have. And like that, everything clicked, Clint’s focus sharp and in the moment and the knowledge dragged out, A-L-I-V-E and P-H-I-L. And oh god, hope felt _good_.

God, _Phil_. Everything was better with Phil, more bearable. Phil would wrap his arm around Clint’s shoulders and commiserate about Lucky and Kate, Bobbi and her divorce papers, Jess and her (completely deserved) anger. He’d distract Tasha and figure out what the hell happened to Gil and intimidate the fight out of the Tracksuit Draculas. Phil’d make everything okay. He’d be there, a steadying warmth at Clint’s back, solid and dependable and perfect and—

“Where?” Clint asked, strangled by the possibilities and already itching to get his bow in hand. Tony grinned and shifted his weight. Clint caught a glimpse of dull gold on his wrists, a subtle flash of a red beacon. Well then, Iron Man came prepared.

“What are your thoughts on breaking and entering?”

Clint let a smile slip onto his face. “You do what you gotta do,” he said, and Tony’s grin widened. 

**Author's Note:**

> I had two reasons for writing this: one, I love Fraction's Hawkeye so much that I just can't even. I've re-read everything he's written a good dozen times already and am practically salivating for the next issue to come out. Just, all of it. Yes. 
> 
> Two: I'm working on Stark's voice. I've got a long piece in my WIP folder that features him as a major player and I'm not thrilled with what I've got so far. I would really appreciate pointers or encouragement or whatever crit you'd like to give me. Thus far, I'm basing him pretty heavily on RDJ's portrayal, but also drawing from how he's shown in the Ultimates. Eh, I don't know, but seriously let me know what you think.


End file.
